


The First Impression

by DontSaveTheHero



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-06
Updated: 2015-06-06
Packaged: 2018-04-03 05:22:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4088506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DontSaveTheHero/pseuds/DontSaveTheHero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Any corrupt kleptomaniac knows the key to a crime is a casual composure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First Impression

Any corrupt kleptomaniac knows the key to a crime is a casual composure.

That's why Lucifer strolled, strutted, or sauntered everywhere he went, and the reason no one stopped him as he exited the bookstore carrying a backpack he most certainly did not enter with. He hadn't stopped to examine its contents only because he already knew exactly what was in it: a five-subject notebook stuffed with crumpled papers and notes on the various levels of law, a weathered-looking ASUS laptop that was prone to overheating, a handful of black-ink pens that the local dollar store sold in bulk, and a wallet containing a few singles, a Driver's license, and a nearly completed “buy six, get one free” coffee card from the bookstore's cafe.

Of course, this had been a carefully considered theft, unlike his usual compulsion to swipe at random. This wasn't just another piece of shit that Lucifer would place in his home like a prize until it lost its attraction and ended up in his storage unit, mostly forgotten except for that every once in a while when he came around to dust and rearrange; no, this one was special, beyond significant, life-changing, really. And he didn't even intend to keep any of it.

Lucifer maintained his nonchalant pace as he moved down the dimly lit street, humming softly. It didn't break when the shouting started behind him though he did smile in a self-satisfied manner. Lucifer only stopped when he was forced to do so, the cause of which a two hundred something pound force knocking him to the hard concrete below. There wasn't much of a struggle afterward, with Lucifer for the most part being compliant in allowing his assailant to wrestle the bag off of his shoulder. When the other man got up so did he, brushing himself off lazily as he watched the other pant heavily. Poor boy must have started sprinting the second he realized his stuff was missing.

“I have to admit, I wasn't expecting you for at least another twenty seconds, Sam. You're getting quicker at putting those books away.”

“Man, what the fuck?”

Sam's tone was confused rather than angry, while his face was hard but vulnerable. People never surprised Lucifer, yet still this one fascinated him.

“I'm a strong believer in making the first impression count. I think I've succeeded this time, don't you?”

Sam stared, disbelief in those pretty hazel eyes. “Yeah, real good job there. You're lucky I don't just call the police right now.”

“Oh, come on, _Sam_. We haven't even started getting to know each other. It's too late for coffee, isn't it, but maybe a hot chocolate at that 24 hour bakery down the block? If you're still thinking about the cops when our cups are empty, feel free. I won't stop you.”

“Give me one good reason why I should get to know the guy who just tried to steal my stuff.” Despite the adrenaline Sam was sure to be feeling, Lucifer detected the sound of sleep in the college student's voice. Perhaps coffee was in order after all.

“Am I not interesting enough for you yet?” Lucifer feigned disappointment. He shrugged and turned around, hiding his twitching lips. “Well, I _am_ the guy who just stole your keys.”

 

 

“Yours has a shot of espresso in it.”

Lucifer placed the cup in front of a seated Sam, who was still looking at him suspiciously, before sitting down with his own.

“You get your hot chocolate _iced_?”

Lucifer winked. “But with just as much whipped cream.”

Sam shook his head, glancing at his beverage before grabbing it and taking a drink. His bag was on the floor, held tightly between his calves. They were almost alone, save the sleep-deprived student in the opposite corner and the bored teenager at the register playing with her phone. Lucifer let the silence fill the air, using his teeth to play with the straw of his drink.

“Well?”

“Yes?”

“Aren't you trying to convince me not to call the cops?”

“Do you still want to call them?”

Sam sighed. “Who are you? Why'd you take my stuff? Dude, what are we even doing here?”

“My name is Nick Novak. While the alliteration adds a nice ring to it, I do prefer Lucifer. We're here to enjoy arguably the best hot chocolate in Northern California. I believe I've already addressed the second question, but I'll go through it again. I wanted to make an impression, and what better way to impress than the thing that I do best?”

“You tried to impress me by committing a crime? Are you some kind of kleptomaniac?”

“I'm also a compulsive liar, but I didn't think that would be as dramatic.”

Sam gave that half a laugh, clearly unsure if that was meant to be a joke. When Lucifer just looked at him, he seemed to realize it wasn't. “So everything you tell me might be bullshit.”

“You don't like the hot chocolate?”

“That's not what I meant.”

Lucifer raised his eyebrows questioningly.

“It's delicious.” That came with a bit of rolling eyes, but the words were sincere.

“Then take it as a confirmation that not everything I say to you is untrue. In fact, I promise that I'll never lie to you.”

“Am I supposed to believe that?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I could have run away with your stuff, drove off, and you’d have never seen it or me again. Instead I brought you to my favorite place and bought you my favorite drink. Have a little faith.”

With that, the silence crept back up on them, but again Lucifer didn't push. Sam appeared to be weighing his words, and he knew this wasn't a moment to disturb.

“Why do you go by Lucifer?” he finally asked.

“Because I choose to embrace what God made me to be. You should understand, with a body like that.” Lucifer openly looked over Sam's sleeveless arms and the muscles that were impressive even while in a resting position.

“You've got some really weird flirting methods, Satan.”

“You're still here.”

Sam didn't know how to respond, so he chose instead to down the last bit of his drink.

“You can ask the cashier for the key to the restroom.”

“What?”

“You always use the restroom after putting your textbooks back on their shelves. Today I robbed you of that routine, so I thought you might want to know.”

“Oh. Uh, yeah.”

Sam awkwardly stood up. When he glanced at his bag, Lucifer sighed.

“I thought we were over this, Sam. I promise not to take off with it again.”

“Sure you do,” Sam said under his breath, but he walked away without it all the same.

When Sam returned a few minutes later, Lucifer was still seated in the same way he'd been, lounging as if he didn't have a care in the world. The backpack appeared undisturbed as well, and oddly enough Sam trusted him not to have broken his word.

Lucifer sipped at the last bit of his own drink before standing. “This was fun. Give me a call soon, we can do this again now that we've cleared up all the basics.”

He made as if to leave, but Sam's voice caught him at the door.

“But I don't have your number.”

“Don't you?”

Realization hit Sam's puzzled expression. “You- of course you did. But...my phone was locked.”

“Only to those who don't know the pass code.”

 

 

Two days later, Sam made a call.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure whether this'll end up being a stand-alone piece, but feedback of any kind is really cool, whether it's down in the comments section or over at punkgabriel.tumblr.com.


End file.
